


Nightmares

by Vampykitty_kun



Series: Sons of the Bat [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Bat Family, Comes with the job, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampykitty_kun/pseuds/Vampykitty_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian wasn't sure when the nightmares began. He was tough skinned. Groomed since birth to be an elite assassin. He cared for no one, feared nothing, and had learned at an early age that if he did not like something he was to remove it from existence like the disease it was. He did not have nightmares, he did not dream, and he did not acknowledge the foolish emotion known as love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: None
> 
> Pairings: None
> 
> Where is this in the time line? Let's just say pre-New 52, post Batman & Robin.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Damian wasn't sure when the nightmares began.

He was tough skinned. Groomed since birth to be an elite assassin. He cared for no one, feared nothing, and had learned at an early age that if he did not like something he was to remove it from existence like the disease it was. He did not have nightmares, he did not dream, and he did not acknowledge the foolish emotion known as love. He had feasted, and he had starved. He had been wounded, he had been repaired, and then he had sought vengeance which he had executed without a second thought. He mother had never coddled him. His grandfather had never praised him. He had never been waited on. He was self-sufficient.

Damian had never lived as a child. He had always been treated as an equal to the other members of the league. He fought the same battles, received the same rewards, and suffered the same punishments. His age and relations made no difference between him and the grunts that followed his grandfather without question. The League of Assassins had been his world, and he had accepted it without question.

Then, just like that, all of that was gone.

Although he could not pin point the exact start of the nightly terrors, he supposed it had been brought on by the long chain of events that had become his current life.

He was living with his father. The Batman. A man that had morals, and a long list of rules that corresponded with them. He had… 'siblings'… older brothers that were little more than pretenders in his eyes. He had a 'servant' that gave into his every demand within reason, gave into everyone's demands, yet still seemed to rule over the manor without force, or fear, or even the urge to do so. He was treated like a child. He was coddled. He was – loved. It was foreign to him. But even so, he was learning to appreciate it. He liked being fussed over. He liked not feeling on edge, not expecting an attack to come at any moment. Gradually, he was even beginning to accept the three Robins of the past as worthy of being a part of his…family? Family was also a foreign term. Until his arrival in Gotham, all family meant was blood relation. All it consisted of was his mother, grandfather, a father he had never known, and a plethora of long since dead relatives that had existed over the centuries. Now it was something more. It wasn't necessarily limited to DNA. Sure, he still had his mother and grandfather… but they seemed rather unimportant at this point. He now had a father, one who was more than just a contributor to half his DNA. He had a different sort of grandfather in Alfred (one far less violent), who was in turn like a father to his father. He had… brothers, even if they did not always get along, came from all different backgrounds, and they were not at all related in reality. He had even begun to wonder if he was supposed to be considering the women of the bat clan his sisters?

Damian had begun to learn love. Love, he had realized, allowed fear to exist within.

Damian felt fear whenever blood ran from his father's body. It was not fear for himself, it was fear that he would lose the man that had taken him in, treated him differently… loved him, and he had begun to love in return. He felt fear whenever Grayson neglected to check in with his father in a timely manner. He felt fear when Drake ran off to play team mate with the world's other young heroes. He felt fear when Todd left nearly as much of his own blood at a crime scene as his unfortunate target had.

Dreams had come first.

He had not resided within Wayne Manor long when the dreams had started. At first he had been perplexed. It had been unnatural for him to be doing one thing, only to wake up moments later in his bed. Never having experienced dreams before, it had taken him a few nights to realize just what was occurring, that he was not in fact the experiment of neither a cruel joke nor sleepwalking. Once he had realized the dreams for what they were, he had relaxed and accepted them with an open mind. He found that the day's events frequently influenced the events of his slumber. He welcomed this. It allowed him to learn from his mistakes, play things out differently, and act accordingly in the future.

Once the dreams had started, they never ceased.

The first time that he had woken abruptly from a dead sleep in cold sweat he had been severely alarmed. His heart rate had skyrocketed, his breath had come in short quick spurts, and he had stared wide eyed at the ceiling for hours afterwards. The images of his grandfather impaling his father with a sword while he was useless to help, locked in his mother's grasp, haunted him throughout the night. With the lack of sleep, and terror fresh in his mind, he had been quite violent at the breakfast table the following morning, almost putting a fork through Drake's hand. He had accepted the lecture that followed with open arms, simply glad that his cross father was still with the living.

In the weeks that followed, the dreams – nightmares, escalated. Night after night he would watch his father, Grayson, Todd, Drake, even occasionally Alfred, Gordon, and Cain fall victim to the gruesome onslaught of enemies invading his slumbering subconscious. The nights were restless, filled with tossing and turning as he stared into the darkness, desperately listening for the slightest sounds of his family in the rooms down the hall to reassure him that they were still there, that no one had taken them away.

Despite the sight shadows forming beneath his eyes, he hid his rough nights from the other members of the household. Mornings were long, and often argumentative, but he refrained from brandishing the good silver in the presence of Alfred since the first fiasco. Patrol went on in its usual fashion, but with the onslaught of bedtime battles came the appearance of heightened occupational fears. Upon returning home each night, he slowly began to wonder if he was losing his nerve.

He hadn't realized that things had gotten as bad as they had until the nightmares attacked with a vengeance. Weeks of sleep deprivation taking their toll. Damian and the rest of the in house bat family had been in bed only a few short hours after a particularly rough night when the terrified screams ripped through the manor echoing down the halls.

Dick shot up in his bed, eyes wide as he turned toward his bedroom door.

Tim let out a startled yelp as he toppled over the side of his bed, tangled in his sheets.

Alfred shook his head sadly as he turned over in his bed, ever aware of the toll their lifestyles took on the young ones.

Bruce only sighed, and pulled back his covers as a door slammed open and frantic footfalls came storming down the halls.

His bedroom door flung open, and closed just as quickly before Damian dove at him, nearly smothering him. He held the boy tightly as the sobs racked his body. Damian's nails dug into his shoulders as he clung to him, and the tears dampened his shirt. He wrapped the blanket back around the two of them and sighed into the boy's hair, rubbing his back gently.

Down the hall, Tim silently slipped into Dick's room and collapsed next to the older man with a sigh. A sad smiled played across Dick's lips as he looked over at the boy.

"They get the better of the best of us huh?"

Tim chuckled and nodded with a yawn.

"I thought he'd be the lucky one. Looks like I was wrong. Horrible sound he made." He murmured, curling against Dick's side and pulling the covers up around his neck.

Dick eyed him and sighed as he settled back against the sheets himself.

"Yeah… but growing up like he did he's sure to have plenty of demons. It would be a miracle if he had escaped that side effect. It's nothing Bruce can't handle though. After all, we've all had our moments, whether we like to admit it or not. Couldn't even count how many times I've run into the man's arms in hysterics."

Tim smiled.

"Me either."

Slowly but surely, the two past Robins drifted back into a deep sleep, taking comfort in the fact that they were not alone as surely, after Damian's emotional outburst, they two would likely be in for a long night.

The following morning was spent in silence at the breakfast table. Damian look exhausted, and ate his breakfast almost robotically. Bruce read the day's newspaper as he drank half the pot of coffee. Dick and Tim each stuffed themselves with a large stack of pancakes, keeping themselves busy as to avoid something that would cause various death threats to spew from Damian's mouth. When breakfast had been dismissed by Alfred, and the two assumed they were safe the boy's potential venomous outburst, Damian proved otherwise. Without warning, Tim was tackled from the side and pinned against the hallway wall, leaving Dick to wonder if he should attempt to save his brother, or run for it. He ultimately decided that the later would likely result in Damian pursuing him anyway in a high speed pursuit through the manor (which always resulting in broken statues, vases, chandeliers, windows, etc ) and an EXTREMELY pissed Alfred.

"Now Damian-"

"SILENCE GRAYSON!" The boy hissed, glaring at him before turning his attention towards Tim, who couldn't seem to decide whether or not to be amused, or afraid. "Not a mention of this past night to Todd, EVER, or I will castrate you in your sleep!" Damian snarled before adjusting his shirt, turning on his heel, and storming down the hall.

Alfred, standing in the doorway from which they had come, raised an eyebrow at his retreating form.

Dick and Tim just turn towards each other, and then burst out laughing.

Damian wasn't sure when the nightmares began, nor how long they would affect him so strongly, but he knew where they would take him those nights the 'dreams' were unbearable.

He was tough skinned, but he was still in fact a child, and as much as he hated to admit it, only human. He had been groomed since birth to be an elite assassin, but now lived as the son of one of Gotham's elite, and as a hero in training. He cared for his family, feared losing them, and had learned that not everything could be erased from existence just because he willed it. He did have nightmares, and his father would comfort him, easing the fears away. He did dream, and when he did, they were beautiful.

And although it had taken Damian far longer than most, he now welcomed the emotion known as love.


End file.
